Erotic Tales, Sensual Art, Sex Toy Design

Snog for Sommer!

And thank you for joining me on my little part of this fantstic blog hop –A Snog for Sommer.

If you dropped in by mistake, let me explain…

The awesome author Ms Sommer Marsden family’s has been hit hard recently by ill health. 50+ friends, writers and admirers of Sommers are hoping to ease the burden if only a little, financially, by enticing lovely readers to join in, comment, win prizes and hopefully donate to this special Sunday Snog. But best of all – buy her books!http://sommermarsden.blogspot.co.uk/

So do go along to the oodles of other authors – you can find the linky-list here – I’m sure there will be lots of fun and prizes – with of course, many many kisses of all kinds so pucker up!

I am offering two prizes – simply leave me a comment with your email address included so I can get in touch when I pick a winner.

Prize 1: an ebook copy of any of my Beachwalktitles – (they are pretty saucy!) read the blurbs here.

What a corker!

Prize 2: I was going to offer a cash prize but I donated it to the cause instead! Go here if you wish to do the same… So – as a consolation, I have made a sexy stocking puppet for one lucky winner to keep forever 😀 I’ll have to post it, but I’ll email you first to make sure you’re up for that.

If you don’t win the puppet, don’t be too downhearted, come back tomorrow when I’ll show you how to make your very own sexy stocking puppet – a friend for life 😀

And so – to the snog

Here’s a short story called The Birthday Cake – it’s more of a build up to a snog – I hope you enjoy it! Remember to mosey on down to the other snoggers – I’m a-telling-ya, you’ll be giddy all day with the love x x

I plucked one of the candles out of the thick frosting and held it out to her, still smouldering.

Note the rose quartz choker

“Why don’t you wrap your lips around it and lick it clean?”

Her face was stony and her exasperated breath matched the look in her eyes.

“Don’t be crass Quentin.”

Quentin. She’d been calling me my full name for the past few days. I was still unsure of what had caused this most recent mood but it was certainly something of my doing.

“Oh go on,” I persevered, waving the sticky candle over the table. It hadn’t escaped my notice that she hadn’t gone to the trouble of buying those little coloured birthday candles but had plumped instead for the emergency dinner ones from the bits and bobs drawer. At least she’d made a cake. That was something. An olive branch of sorts. “It would be a shame to waste this creamy celebration.”

A flicker at the corner of her mouth hinted at a thaw. My groin twitched at the thought of watching her ease the sugary shaft into her pout and tease me, undulating her tongue around and around. I could even hear the slide and pop as she pulled it out, clean and slick with her saliva. I waggled it again, urging her to take it from me, lifting my eyebrow in that way I hoped was sexy.

She rolled her eyes but then, very slowly, reached out.

I thought about snatching my hand away and making her come closer but relinquished it in favour of holding the fragile moment. It was time to play by her rules precisely. Her fingers hovered slightly and for a moment I thought she might withdraw them. I held my breath as she took the candle and the ice thawed.

I didn’t want to be too eager so I settled back into my chair and just watched. Her gaze met mine and she lifted the frosting to her lips. Her pupils dilated and she shifted in her seat. Had she felt it? She must have. The rigid pose softened and she smeared the soft butter icing over her red red lips easing them open with the end of the candle. It was exactly what I’d seen in my mind just a few seconds before.

White blobs of frosting clung to her lips as she opened her mouth, wrapping her tongue around the candle, sucking and licking it clean. Her mouth was such a sensual thing, moving and teasing me, just as I wanted. My cock swelled and strained in my jeans but I stayed still, not wanting to break the static spell that hung between us.

The skin at her throat blushed crimson and she sucked, pushing the candle in deeper. It was a good sign. She shifted a little and I knew if I peeked under the table, her legs would have parted. Lust hung heavy on her expression now and I inhaled deeply, feeling confident this was the start of something. Something to heal and shatter the chill from the past few days. I ventured a hand to her knee and it yielded to my touch, falling to where I pushed. Running my palm up her inner thigh I shuddered when I felt the nylon change to lace.

Stockings.

She’d known there’d be a reunion tonight. She’d planned this. It was her seduction all along. Not mine.

I fell into her heady trap and all I could hear was the slide and pop of the candle as she pulled it out, slick and shining with her saliva.